Peace Barrier Of The Brutalism: Manipulation

At the back, below the surface. The war was inevitable. I escaped… I escaped my responsibility, looking like a chicken in a slaughterhouse as I ran away. Seeing himself slithering away from the conflict, his skin ripped away and the bones in his feet cracking. His face became so degloved, exposing its full spherical eyes, that he became unrecognizable. "I'm 100 meters away from my home, my freedom, my peace. I will make it even if it seems impossible. I'm gifted." Autumn Village In an autumn village, during an era of knights, kings, and palaces, the middle ages, the government constructed a school to increase the number of educated residents in the community. A young boy with black hair and brown eyes was in a fight. *Punches* Watching his friend from a window as he ended up in another fight, a boy with brown hair and eyes sighed. "Jeez, again? What about our homework? He shouldn't have gone outside," he muttered. He closed the window curtain and returned to his work. As the school guard approached to stop the fight, he saw the boys, exhausted, forcing themselves to continue. The guard immediately intervened. "Do you still hate him?" the guard asked. "No," the boys replied. "Well, let's prove it. Hug each other!" the guard said enthusiastically. They slowly hugged, feeling awkward as the other students laughed at them. Later, the boy walked over to his friend, his face dirty and bruised. Fortunately, they avoided the principal's office by agreeing to hug. "FRIETH!" he shouted down the hallway. While writing, Frieth ignored Mjiel's shout, focusing on a math problem without distraction. "Finding the GCF and multiplying both sides must be the right answer. Mjiel's kinda annoying, though," he thought. Mjiel slammed the door open, clearly in a hurry. "I-I forgot the homework. Can I copy yours?" he asked. Frieth hated Mjiel's habit of being effortless and relying on him for academic work. He didn't mind sharing answers, but he was annoyed by Mjiel's sweaty odor and constant chatter. "I don't mind giving him the answer; it's not that hard. What I hate is him looking like crap, smelling like sweat, and sitting beside me," Frieth thought. It was always Mjiel who talked too much, while Frieth chose to stay quiet. He tried to bore Mjiel by avoiding conversation, eventually leaving the room with a sigh. "He always leaves me alone whenever I go near him," Mjiel sighed, feeling abandoned. He closed Frieth's notebook with his unfinished homework inside. Mjiel wondered if Frieth had lost interest in him or found him boring. Determined to make Frieth happy again, he called out, "FRIETH!" Outside the school, at sunset, Frieth sat on a public bench reading a book. Hearing Mjiel shouting his name again, he pretended not to hear. "Frieth, why did you leave all of a sudden?" Mjiel asked, sitting beside him. Frieth kept reading, responding coldly, "I just felt like it." "I've always thought being your friend was fun, but it's just..." Mjiel trailed off, realizing Frieth wasn't listening. Annoyed, he left Frieth alone. That day, Mjiel stopped speaking to him like he used to. Frieth felt better alone, thinking only malice about Mjiel. At home, he heard his father scolding his mom. His dad was always mad and drunk. "It's always mom who does the work for us. Why is dad like this?" Frieth's anger towards his dad was immeasurable. He loved his mother but hated his father. Every time he felt bad, his mom was there to comfort him, only for his dad to bring anger. Afraid to enter the house, Frieth left and headed to the library. "Buy a potion before the Govern gets rid of it!" a vendor shouted in the distance. Entering the library, he noticed a red and orange book. Curious, he grabbed it and sat down. The plot was about killings and suffering around the palace, making him lose interest. "Maybe I should judge a book by its cover," Frieth muttered. Flipping the book, he saw the credits and information. His eyes widened in fear upon reading, "This story is based on real life events about our history." He slammed the book shut, breathing heavily. "No! No! This is not real!" Frieth thought frantically. Nearby, a boy about his age read calmly. Frieth decided to ask him a strange question, holding up the book. "Is this real?" he asked. The boy looked confused, then glanced at the book before returning his gaze to Frieth. "Excuse me?" the boy said. Realizing how strange his question was, Frieth changed it. "Oh, I mean, have you read this book?" he asked awkwardly. The stranger noticed Frieth's panic and fear. "Let me see," he said, extending his hand. Frieth thought, "The audacity of disturbing a stranger just to ask if I've read it sounds important. He wouldn't do it for no reason. I can see his panic." Reading the plot, the boy burst into laughter, pointing at Frieth. "Hey! What are you laughing at?" Frieth demanded, his fear turning to anger. The stranger, realizing it was about killings and torture, laughed, thinking Frieth was just scared. He handed the book back, trying to stop laughing. Frieth, unable to handle the insult, threw the book at the boy's face. His anger relieved, he laughed as the boy's laughter faded. The librarian, noticing the noise, threw them both out. Outside, they began to ask each other's names. "Hey, what's your name?" "Frieth. Yours?" "Eziphin." "Sounds like a dolphin." "Blame my mother for that."